


Armor

by soundsaboutright



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season 3, dare I say angst?, mention of injury, set during a unspecified crisis in the near future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:31:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13910670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundsaboutright/pseuds/soundsaboutright
Summary: They are both worn thin.Set during an unspecified crisis in the near future, possibly season 3. Not a Malec crisis, though. Never fear.Might be a more complicated form of comfort than the older ones, though. A heavier piece? I don't know.





	Armor

**Author's Note:**

> I actually cracked the 1000 words with this one, wohoo. Feels different, this one, but then again I say that about each new one.  
> The lightness of the s2 bloopers that have dropped and the new Malec teaser -MOOORE! - makes it easier to post this darker, complicated thingy here. Or not, haha.

Magnus senses the tension in the air the moment he sets foot into the Institute. It's inside every hushed whisper, inside every hurried step of everyone around. Still, it is only when he enters Alec’s office, laying eyes on his lover lost deep in thought, that something in his chest curls tight and just short of painful.

  
They haven’t been able to see each other over the last few days, with Alec ordering all hands on deck and staying in the Institute, and Magnus himself being busy as well, soothing and sorting through the alarming increase in the Downworld’s newest upheavals and disruptions.

  
They are both worn thin.

  
The hyper vigilance of these last weeks, the sense of heightened crisis going on for too long now - it has taken a toll on everyone; too many impossible problems to solve at once, hollowing out and vibrating inside their collective bones.

But something about Alec makes him look the worse for it.

  
Magnus finds him standing, studying the painting above the bookshelf, as if its subdued colors might hold all the answers that the open files and documents strewn around on his desk have failed to provide. His arms are crossed in front of his torso, knuckles white against dark fabric where fingers wrap around elbows, holding tight. Holding on.

And maybe it’s a trick that Magnus’ mind plays on itself, because he _knows_ , but he swears something about Alec’s posture is different still, off in a way, _aware_ of where the deep gash on his side was oozing blood and demon venom just days before.

Angelic runes and Magnus’ magic healed it, but the newly mended flesh must still be tender. Magnus shivers. Another close call, another shock to Alec's system, still so fresh in muscle memory. Another blunt trauma wedged in beneath skin and bone.

  
Magnus speaks softly:

“I thought I’d check on you.”

  
Alec turns to him.

And were it maybe two weeks ago, Alec’s arms would fall to his sides now, and with two long strides he’d be close to Magnus, greeting him with a kiss.  
Still it’s all there in his eyes, Magnus can _see_ it,  it’s all there, but Alec's body doesn’t move.

  
“Hey.”

  
“Hey.” Magnus makes the sound a caress, and there’s endless gratefulness in Alec’s tired features.

 

There's nothing Magnus wants more than to go over and lose himself in his lover's arms, but something about the way Alec is holding himself tells him that this time, right now, it won’t be so easy to let it all fall away.

And Magnus knows the feeling: Every new cruel thing happening around them has seemed like finally too much to carry, too much to to stand, for too long now.

  
It is like the last few days, since they've seen each other, have hardened the set of Alec’s shoulders further into a protective shell, a rigid, skin-clad thing, that will not be so easy to shake, at a command or the simple desire to do so. Magnus’ body has done it, too, in the past.

  
There are sorrys on Alec’s lips but he doesn’t speak them. Magnus sees them, nonetheless. They’ve both talked their voices to exhaustion those last few days, Magnus knows _he_ has. So even though gentle conversation usually comes naturally to them, right now their silence is filled with just enough to handle for their over-worked minds.

  
For a moment Magnus doesn’t know what to do, just knows he hates every inch of distance between them.

  
He knows it's not about _them_. It's everything around them, closing in on them. Still. Mabe if he'd come over sooner, maybe if they could just be somewhere else...

Magnus thinks of portalling them to the loft, but somehow, Alec looks not ready to leave yet. Magnus thinks-

  
_Remind me._

  
He looks up. Thinks he hears Alec whisper the words, but maybe it’s just in the way his hands open and close on top of his bent arms, undecided.

To see Alec like this, it hurts.

And Alec’s shoulders twitch, every too taut muscle in his body begging to remember Magnus’ touch, be swept up in _their_ very own sweetness, something that seems just out of grasp now with all this strain.

  
Magnus knows Alec yearns for it, but still his lover stands, braced and closed off, and the barrier of his body won’t let him to it, yet.

  
_When everything else is nothing but harsh, remind me of your kindness._

  
Thoughts are racing through Magnus’ mind, yet it’s his body acting on its own making the decision.

He lets the glamour fall from his eyes.

The quality of that thickness, this need inside the room between them is strange, cumbersome, yet there's a tell-tale taste of desperate, that feels almost familiar: All Magnus can do is let it click into a shape that's close; one he knows, can handle, can reach.

He takes that step towards Alec, golden eyes connecting to Alec's with itent, and Magnus watches Alec's pupils dilate.

He thinks of dropping to his knees, wants his mouth on Alec somehow, but it seems not right for what he needs to do right now. They’d be too far apart in this open space, too much of Alec would be untouched between them. So he closes their distance and maneuvers Alec’s back against the tall door of the filing cabinet behind them. Alec lets him.

Magnus leans all his weight in, his mouth to Alec’s collarbone a sudden shock of warmth. His hand goes between Alec’s legs, over the fabric of his pants.

It surprises both of them, the impetuousness of this approach, and yet it feels _right_. There’s a startled soft sound of tongue against teeth from Alec, but his hips drive into Magnus’ touch, crowding close, without hesitation.

Magnus’ shoulder and thigh bear into Alec, holding their weight up and Magnus uses both his hands between them, opening buttons and pushing clothes down just enough and out of the way; Alec’s pulse is stumbling where Magnus sucks the skin of his neck between his lips.

It's rough and raw enough for their bodies to recognize and accept as real.

Magnus sets up a fast pace, as soon as he’s barely closed his fingers around Alec, and Alec’s hands tremble where they grab hard onto Magnus upper arms.

Magnus is sure they've not used sex this way before, quite like that, doesn't know if it he'd even call it that, but then it _is_ a thing between them, something they need, and that makes it enough. Makes it tinged with sweetness, even so.

  
Alec is pure velvet heat beneath him.

  
Magnus’ rings, their metal edges smoothed by being worn for years, slide solid and hard in the circle of his grip, a hardness that won’t give against Alec’s, and Magnus knows to adjust the pressure; he has his own ringed hand on himself for reference, has Alec’s breath so very loud against his ear.

  
It’s not subtle and not precise, Magnus doesn’t use every trick he’s ever learned, and yet Alec is close in a matter of minutes. Magnus is right there with him.

Magnus brings them together inside both his hands wrapped around them, and Alec comes with a breathless shout and shaking, spasming muscles.

It's almost like a side thought when Magnus joins him, like a held breath leaving his lungs, a prelude in some strange way, more than anything else.

Magnus hands slow down, but don't let go.

The heat they stand in flickers then fades, and they keep holding on to each other, breathing, waiting to see what they will find in the aftermath; never once afraid of it though.

A tremble goes through their joined bodies, last fading echo of an orgasm ripped from them, and all the same a subtle start to something else:

Their mouths meet then.

Magnus kisses Alec, keeps kissing him, and with their come warm between them, Alec’s body finally gives in. Gives up what it had been conditioned to do for all those years; in its stead remembers the new things it’s learned, with Magnus.

And Magnus is kissed back.

Alec clutches at Magnus, holds him close with a tired,  honest need. For more of _this_. It speaks to Magnus, sings, whispers along and through every place they touch; and he responds in kind.

Here is _Alec_ in his arms. Cracked open and letting their warmth fill both of them.

They're heavy in each others' embrace; kiss until the air between them tastes of nothing but each other anymore.

Until Magnus’s lips move against the side of Alec’s neck:

“Let’s go home, Alexander.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know 'bout this one, it has changed shape on me several times. It's not sexy, but something sex can be while being still good? Does that make sense?  
> Let me know, if you're so inclined<3


End file.
